Sacrificially Insufficient
by noncynic
Summary: Kim finds out that not measuring up sometimes has it's good side. A little Halloween one-shot with a special guest appearance.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

A little one-shot for Halloween. Not related to either of my main storylines, probably set in Kim's Junior year.

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"Yeah, I originally thought I got a real lemon when I first heard I'd inherited an actual castle, you know?" The voice of Malcolm Pittman echoed in the narrow circular stairwell he was descending. "I mean, with the probable upkeep for the place, I thought: 'No way, brother, I'm unloading this pile of mortar and stone as soon as I can, even at a loss'. But, the estate agent insisted I had to visit the place at least once, before I could dump it! And boy, am I glad he did!"

He paused briefly to switch his flashlight from one hand to the other. There was no electric lighting in the stairwell, and there were five hundred individual steps, broken at three places with small landings to catch one's breath at when ascending. There was a dim glow emanating from the bottom, which was visible even at the top of the stairs, but he didn't trust it to navigate by, nor even wonder how it was possible.

Behind him, his cousin George Burden shifted the blanket-wrapped load he was carrying over his shoulder. It wasn't particularly heavy for him, he was a big, heavyset individual with plenty of excess muscle beyond that necessary to move his wide-shouldered body, with it's prominent belly, around. But carrying any load down these stairs at the sedate, careful pace that Mal descended at was a chore.

It was primarily for that 'load' that Pittman was speaking aloud at all. He resumed his speech as he continued downwards. "It's a small one, as castles go, guy had it built right on the edge of one helluva drop, you don't want to look out my office window if you don't have a head for heights! Upstairs, nothing special. Decent lighting, rooms aren't drafty, there goes that cliché, heh! Not meant for a large family, or staff, great view...but it's what I was shown down here that sold me on the place, made it seem like I might make some cash out of the joint."

He was silent for a short while, nearly forty steps, before he continued. "Never believed in no mumbo-jumbo before, none of that magic crap! But then I saw proof of it down here. Had someone translate the book on the place, the instruction manual, you could say. Or at least enough to know how it works. Had to pay the guy by the day you see, figured I could get the rest done later, now that I can afford it. But right now, it's too much hassle."

He stopped talking as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He and Burden now stood before a set of double doors made of stone, but framed in brass, curiously untarnished for it's alleged age, another fact that Pittman didn't dwell too much on. The doors were totally unremarkable otherwise, no symbols or inscriptions visible.

"And here we are! Well, nearly to the place you'll be staying, for as long as my client is willing to pay your 'rent'." He took hold of two handles set in the brass frame and pulled, stepping back slightly as the doors swung wide. Beyond was a circular chamber, somehow illuminated throughout without a single specific source for the light visible.

There were six doors set in the walls, including the one through which they had entered, but the others were only single doors, not double. In the center of the chamber floor was a symbol consisting of six arms radiating from a single point, each ending in an point. One arm pointed at each door. The arm pointed at the double doors seemed to be filled in with brass, as was the center point.

"Don't know what the deal is with this thing." Pittman remarked, gesturing at the symbol. "Maybe it's supposed to move or something, but seems like it's broken right now." He paused, studying the doors. "Let's see, which one is empty?"

"I think it's the one..." Burden began, but Pittman cut him off.

"My memory works just great, fatso, _that's_ the empty one!" He pointed at the door directly opposite the doubles and began to stride confidently towards it. Not that he had much room to talk about Burden's weight, he was overhanging his own belt buckle more than a bit. But he was proud to be still in possession of all of his hair, which he wore long.

Shrugging massively, causing his burden to shift, Burden followed him. From one end of the bundle he bore on his shoulder, two bare feet protruded. Small, white, feminine feet.

Pittman barely had to push to get the door open, letting him enter a small, square room. Like the main chamber, it was all plain, bare gray stone. He stepped to one side and gestured towards the wall opposite the door. "Okay, get her in place!"

Burden walked past him and bent slightly as he lowered his bundle, setting the two feet on the floor. He then braced it against the wall and tugged on the blanket, which fell to the floor, revealing a very naked Kim Possible. Though her lack of resistance indicated that something had immobilized her, her eyes moved, blinking at first in the dim light from the outer chamber, then studying her two captors as best she could. Her blood circulation also seemed in great shape, as most of her began to turn red from embarrassment. But there was an angry glare in her eyes that sent a shiver down Pittman's spine.

"How much longer did that guy say the drug would keep working?" He asked Burden, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

Burden had his hands too full to look at his watch. He pushed Kim against the wall, holding her up with a forearm across her neck, while fumbling around a strip of metal on the wall, to one side of her waist. Then his fingers found a small lever, which he shifted, and the strip extended out from the wall as a band of metal that closed around Kim's waist. With one hand free, he looked at his watch. "Should be about used up about now, Mal."

Pittman's eyes bulged. "Then hurry up, get her locked in!" He commanded nervously.

Burden shot him a pitying look. "Relax! According to that book, once these are locked on.." He indicated the band around Kim's waist, "..there's no way for the prisoner to release themselves!" He now grabbed one of Kim's arms, and stretched it out above her head, slightly to one side. A little more manipulating, and another band of metal encircled and trapped it. He repeated the process with her other three limbs, then stepped back, brushing his hands together. "There, all done."

Kim could feel the metal bands at first, but then something weird began to happen. The one around her waist, initially only six inches or so wide, began to spread across her abdomen, finally stopping when she was covered by it from her lower ribs to her hips. The ones at her wrists and ankles then spread out to cover her hands and feet, immobilizing her fingers and toes completely. And oddest of all, she suddenly couldn't feel their presence at all!

"Now, here's what happens next." A more composed Pittman announced, "When we step outside, and close the door, you'll be in the dark. Totally, completely, dark! And you won't hear anything, either! You won't be able to talk, or scream, or move at all, you'll be totally immobilized as long as you're in here. But here's the interesting part! You won't age, either! No matter when I let you out of here, _if_ I ever do, you'll be exactly the same age. But, you'll also be hopelessly insane."

"See, your brain will continue to function normally, but there will be no sensory input to it whatsoever. No light, sound, touch, nada_, _zip! And without that, you'll go crazy, babe!" He gestured for Burden to leave, before addressing Kim again. "So you see, whoever paid for you to 'stay' here wants you to live, but go insane. That's how I make a profit on this place, keeping people here who have other people willing to pay for this particular service! Took me a while to get set up in business, and it's a month-by-month arrangement, but I'm finally doing pretty good. In fact, this is the very first time I've had all five rooms filled since I've been in business!" Burden having collected the blanket passed him by, taking one quick look back at Kim. Not lasciviously, or pityingly, just as if mildly curious. Pittman shooed him out.

He stepped into the doorway. "I have had more then four clients, but a couple just wanted their victims here long enough to crack up, then they took them back. Still, they paid the rent, so it's all gravy. Only odd thing is, I thought I'd get a bunch of heroes and the like, but most of the people I've locked up have been bad dudes, locked up by badder dudes! And you're my only celebrity to date, but maybe that'll change." He stepped outside the room. "But for now, Miss Possible, I'm saying goodbye. The next time I see you, you'll probably not be able to speak words, just drool a bit. But this isn't personal, this is just business!"

He then stepped back, and the doors swung shut of their own accord. He rubbed the sweat off his palms on his trousers, then turned to Burden. "Glad that's over! Kinda raw to do that to a teenage girl, but the money's good. Let's get back upstairs. You can start your little on line auction of her stuff, I'll get Philby to make me up a snack, and notify our client that Miss Possible is out of circulation, as long as he pays for her rent."

They exited the main chamber, closing the door behind them. Then Pittman regarded the stairs dourly as he switched his flashlight back on. "Definitely need to look into finding out how much it'll cost to get an elevator installed!" Then he shook his head and started his ascent, Burden trailing behind him. Two steps up,, the big man suddenly stopped and cocked an ear, looking back at the double doors. "Mal? Did you just hear a thump?"

"Yeah, it was probably my heart warming up to 'pounding'!" Pittman replied sarcastically. Then he turned to look down at his cousin. "You better be as good as you claim to be on computers, if that little tech-nerd of hers traces your auction..."

Burden rolled his eyes. "Mal, trust me! If they run a trace, the signal will pass through the servers of several likely candidates to have snatched her! They'll waste time going after each one, I'd bet on it!"

Pittman didn't look convinced. But neither did he want to stand there discussing it, or attempt to hold a conversation while ascending the damn stairs. "Well, it's your head if things go south, just so you understand that!" He turned and started upwards again, counting the stairs under his breath.

"Sure Mal, sure." Burden replied. Then with one last frowning look at the doors, he started upwards as well.

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Kim found everything Pittman had said to be true. As soon as the door closed, she was completely cut off from all sensation, she couldn't even feel her own body! _"Have to find a way out of this, I know that man's right, too long like this, no matter what I do, and I'll go nuts!"_

Inside the main chamber, the dull gray walls were now bathed in an amber glow. Then the brass arm within the floor symbol began to glow brightly. It rose upwards until it cleared the depression it was in. Then it split into two equal sized arms. The new duplicate arm swung clockwise until it was aligned with the next depression, then they both dropped into place with a thump, the noise that Burden had heard.

The door at which the new arm pointed began to glow a deep amber color. Within the chamber, the naked man secured to the wall stirred feebly at the first light he'd seen in three weeks, but at first he showed no signs of retaining any intellect. Until he heard the voice.

"**Jean Yves Denard...ah, such a tainted soul! A man who extracts secrets from other men, and women, by the most painful means possible! Now locked away by your own masters, because you discovered too many of their secrets! But they may need your body, freshly dead, at a future date, so you are condemned to this existence! It seems the purpose of this place has been misunderstood, here you will be merely a sacrifice!"**

Somehow the man had been restored to full sentience during this declaration, and his full sanity restored. Allowing him to scream in mortal fear as the glow intensified and filled the room...

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Ron Stoppable had been a frequent visitor to Yamanouchi, and had featured the ninja school in several of his stories. Of course, he didn't write the truth about the place, or he'd have found himself in serious trouble. It wasn't located on a mountaintop, but actually existed within the structure of a small town in Northern Hokkaido. It was well off the beaten path, and rarely saw visitors. Those it did see, saw in turn a perfectly normal, sleepy little village. Five minutes before their arrival, or five minutes after their departure, they'd have seen something entirely different.

Several separate classes in the art of _Ninjitsu_, as well as martial arts and other useful skills went on simultaneously throughout the town. Both young, apprentice ninjas, and older veterans refreshing their skills practiced and drilled side by side.

Ron's depiction of the _Sensei Yamanouchi_ was also a composite of several instructors he had met there. There was in fact a man who looked like someone's kindly grandfather, who had at one time been capable of defeating a half-dozen skilled opponents with out breaking a sweat, but he was never known to levitate or show much interest in the younger students, even the apprentice Monkey Master.

He was also never known to run. So, when he was sighted sprinting pell-mell down the streets towards the main _dojo_, which doubled as the Town Hall, it definitely attracted everyone's notice. The young were curious and confused, the older curious and seriously alarmed.

Sensei burst into a meeting room where the senior staff of the school holding their daily meeting to discuss many matters, from student performance to keeping the local store where tourists and others passing through stopped properly stocked and up to date. The sudden entrance of their most respected mentor caused them all to jump immediately into combat stances, and study the man for several seconds, divining if this was indeed who it appeared to be.

Sensei wasted no time on ceremony. "We must prepare for battle! A great evil may soon enter this world, and I fear we may be the only ones who can stop it! Recall our best students, those who have shown the greatest spiritual strength, and bid them prepare for a battle in which all of our lives must be forfeit if necessary for victory!" After which, he collapsed to his knees and made a herculean effort to get some oxygen back into his aged body. Then he gasped out, "Oh, yes, someone tell the Middleton contingent to get Stoppable-san out of bed and on his horse, we'll need the Lotus Blade!"

His audience remained frozen for many seconds, then exploded into frantic activity. For another certain thing was known about the _Sensei Yamanouchi. _He didn't make jokes.

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The howl of triumphant glee that echoed through Fiske Hall caused Bates to drop the silver he was polishing. He looked around frantically, then dashed towards the library, the last known location of his Lord and Master, Montgomery Fiske, better known as Monkeyfist. The faithful manservant passed several monkey ninjas headed in the opposite direction, but all looking back the way they'd come. Despite taking that as a bad sign, Bates continued on.

The sight that greeted him as he burst into the library brought him to a dead stop. Monkeyfist was capering around a pedestal on which a large stone shaped roughly like a rugby ball stood on end. Currently, it was glowing in a deep violet hue.

Fiske spotted him almost immediately, and a maniacal grin spread across his features. "Bates! It's finally happened! Some great force of arcane energy is building, and with the Stone of R'ngell, I can tap into the power, and wield it as I choose!" He held up his arms, and around both wrists Bates saw the ancient stone bracelets that Fiske had gone to great effort to steal, both glowing with the same violet light.

"_I have an extremely bad feeling about this!"_ The manservant decided.

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Roughly eighty minutes after the first sacrifice, it was time for the next. The original arm in the symbol rose again, and split, with it's new copy moving counter-clockwise before dropping into the next slot. Again, the door it pointed to began to glow.

Within the room, a Sicilian _Mafia_ hit man who had made the mistake of cuckolding a senior boss was held. He had been locked away shortly after witnessing his former colleagues taking out the boss' rage on members of the hit man's family. Rather then kill him, the boss thought it better to lock him away with those memories fresh in his mind for him to dwell on.

His soul took more then ninety minutes to flay and devour.

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Ron Stoppable woke up in an upright position, and immediately looked down at himself. His state of dress was far to familiar. "Aw, Man! Sorry KP, lost them...again?"

"Stoppable-san, do you have a fresh pair of trousers? These have an odd...odor." The voice caused Ron to blink, and fully awake to his surroundings. He was in his attic bedroom, in was dark outside, and nearly as dark in the room, which he now shared with three ninjas.

"Wha—what's hap.." A hand clamped over his mouth.

"Stoppable-san, you must be silent, or you will wake the little one!" A voice whispered harshly in his ear. All three ninjas looked apprehensively towards the stairs down. "And we would really prefer you not do that!"

Ron lowered his voice with an effort, as the hand was withdrawn. "Okay, what's the sitch? Why are you dudes in my room, and how did I get...you guys _dressed _me!!!"

"There is great need for you, and the Lotus Blade, Stoppable-san!" The head ninja replied, ignoring Ron's appalled look, "The _Sensei Yamanouchi_ himself has ordered us to prepare you for a terrible battle, one which may depend solely on you for our victory!"

Ron looked at him in shock, then his eyes narrowed. "Okay. First, can someone prove to me that I'm _not_ dreaming this?" Behind him, one of the ninjas nodded, and did so.

Seconds later Ron, and the lead ninja, who now had teeth marks in his palm, stood glaring at the cowering ninja. "_Dude!" _Ron hissed, "That was just...wrong!"

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Pittman sat in his office, a room adjacent to the Master Bedroom, high in the main tower of the castle. Sitting at his desk, he was using his desktop computer to notify his client of Kim Possible's incarceration.

A knock at the door heralded the arrival of Philby, his newly acquired manservant. No great paragon of morality himself, Philby had no great qualms working for Pittman. He entered carrying a tray bearing a sandwich and a mug of hot cider, placing it carefully in a clear space on the desk. "Everything proceeding in a satisfactory manner, Sir?" He inquired politely.

Pitney nodded and reached for the mug without looking up. "Going great guns, Philby! Burden is probably happy to finally have a female victim, dealing with all those guys was no fun for him. And my bank has verified full payment in advance for six months on our new guest! To think, we could leave her in there for years, and she'd come out the same girl, but totally mindless! Frightening idea, I really don't like the image, but in business, you got to make sacrifices!"

"Quite So, Sir."

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The third sacrifice was a quickie. A government minister who had diverted funds to his own pocket which directly resulted in the collapse of a schoolhouse roof during a heavy snowfall, incarcerated here by someone trying to save the government embarrassment, and avenge a dead nephew.

Sixty-five minutes sufficed to adequately torment and devour his soul...

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Kim blinked. She could now see the door to her chamber, faintly outlined by a yellow glow that seemed to be creeping closer to her. _"Oookay, what was all that about sensory deprivation?" This is _so_ beginning to look like even worse then it did before!"_

Not that she could do anything about it, her brain didn't seem to be connected to her body anymore.

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Burden was at his computer, in the large bedroom he'd been alloted by his cousin. He'd made all the connections, and was ready to get down to business. He plopped himself down in his padded swivel chair between his computer table, and another on which Kim's clothes were laid out, and prepared to begin his auction.

He picked up Kim's mission boots and dropped them into view of his camera, while keeping even his hands out from in front of the lens. The voice distortion program was another safeguard against finding any of Kim's friends on his trail in the future.

"All right, here's the first item up for bid, removed from her person by yours truly less then an hour ago. As proof, I will show pictures of her at each stage of her disrobing, though my own self will not appear in any of them." He put up a picture of Kim fully clothed, then one with her boots off. "As said before, her gadgets were all dumped by her abductors, just in case they contained any trackers, but her clothes and boots have been scanned thoroughly several times. Now, what is the opening bid?"

He studied his monitor screen, and a slow smile spread across his face as the first bids came in. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. He was going to make out like a bandit tonight.

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Sacrifice Number Four was a former dictator. His replacement wanted him kept alive, if not sane, so he could be trotted out and publicly executed to satisfy the expected mobs protesting the inefficiency of the new government.

Having murdered or had tortured to death literally hundreds of people for his own amusement and sense of stability, he made a good, long meal as a sacrifice.

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Bates was beside himself, what would the neighbors think? Lord Fiske was levitating, surrounded by a purple glow, outside in plain view...well, to be honest, there were no neighbors, the two adjacent properties were practically unsellable due to Fiske Manor's proximity. Still, it was embarrassing, having him orbiting around the place, laughing maniacally.

Nearby, the monkey ninjas had drawn a crude...well actually pretty good map of the estate, divided it into sections, and seemed to be involved in some sort of lottery.

Bates sighed deeply. What one had to put up with being a Gentleman's Gentleman these days...

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The symbol was nearly filled, having alternated it's directions, now only one room was left, Kim's. It was now filled with a dull glow, and Kim could see perfectly well, except she couldn't move anything. Or feel anything yet, either.

But then the glow became blinding. And suddenly, she heard a voice, deep and gloating.

"**And what do we have here? A young female? Pray tell, how early did you set your steps on the path of sin? Let's see...y—you picked your nose? What kind of sac...you lied to your parents and your boyfriend? ONCE?! You cheated on a driver's exam, then you retook it!?! HONESTLY?!! W—who put you here? What moron thought you'd make a good sacrifice, the necessary dose of evil necessary to FREE ME?! Oh, this just takes the cake! Three centuries since the last attempt, and this is what I get after all the build-up! Well, someone's going to pay for this, someone needs a proper lesson about how to perform a good sacrifice, Yes Sir!" **There was a brief pause. **"A—and you're still a VIRGIN! OH what are things coming to, when you can't get five truly evil...oh, sheep-dip!"**

Suddenly all the arms rose out of their grooves, and combined back into one with a sharp crack! It then dropped back into the single slot with a crash. The amber glow vanished completely.

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Lord Fiske found himself in a good news, bad news situation when the power holding him aloft abruptly terminated, and gravity reasserted itself. The good news was, he was directly above the manor's pool. The bad news, that since it was late fall, the pool was only half full.

As Bates ran to find the pool cleaner's long handled strainer to try and pull Monty out, the monkey ninja who'd chosen the swimming pool area in the lottery was collecting his winnings.

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In her cell, the restraints holding Kim withdrew into the wall again, dumping her unceremoniously onto the cold stone floor, with all of her senses fully restored. She let out a sharp cry of pain, then lay there a moment until the world stopped spinning around. Then she slowly rose to her feet, checking for damage as best she could in the poor light.

She then emerged into the main chamber, hugging herself both from the cold and for modesty's sake, not to mention some seriously frazzled nerves. Which got a jolt when the cell door slammed behind her as soon as she was clear of it.

As soon as her heart rate was close to normal again she surveyed the chamber carefully, then headed for the double doors. They swung open easily at her push, and she strode through, jaw tightening, fists clenching, a look on her face that had on occasion caused one or more villains to turn themselves in, even when she wasn't after them in particular. She began to take the stairs two or three at a time as she headed upwards. Whoever or whatever was the source of that mysterious voice was not the only one going to teach some lessons tonight...

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At Yamanouchi, the main exercise room of the primary _dojo_ was a grim and serious place, as the best of Yamanouchi's ninjas prepared for battle. Ancient weapons purported to contain power were uncased and worshipfully prepared. Prayers were recited, many repeatedly.

The chosen battle leader paced among them, advising, exhorting, and inspecting their preparations with a hypercritical eye. "Such battles are an increasing rarity in our times, we should all consider it a great honor to participate in this one, though it may mean ours deaths!"

He strode to one end of the room and took a stance with his arms folded across his chest, perfectly still. It was this very stillness that soon caused all of the other occupants of the room to stop what they were doing and devote their attention to him.

"Any failure in this matter will be a great stain on the honor of Yamanouchi! Whether the failure is that of an individual, or that of us all! If anyone here does not feel that they can perform the duties required of them, to face great evil and do so unflinchingly, then I wish them to speak now, before they can disgrace..."

He was interrupted by a door sliding open, to reveal the _Sensei Yamanouchi, _an uncharacteristic look of chagrin on his face. "It seems...it seems the matter has somehow been dealt with, you may all return to your normal duties." After a momentary pause, as if searching for more words, he abruptly bowed and began to close the door again. But he stopped when it was halfway closed, opened it again, and said "Very sorry about all the fuss, but..." then he hesitated, shook his head, and slid the door closed.

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Philby was returning from closing the front doors of the castle which it had unaccountably been wide open, when he spotted Kim at the top of the stairs. The girl had obviously found the four hundred steps a bit of a challenge after all, at least at the pace she chose to ascend them. She now stood leaning back against the wall, hands on her knees, trying to regulate her breathing.

Philby stepped back into the shadows, eyes fixed on the girl. She was in just the right age range to truly interest him, perhaps at the upper end, but still his sort of girl. Which was why he was employed in an old castle in the Austrian Alps, instead of a nice manor in England.

After a minute or so, Kim straightened up, and stretched and kneaded her leg muscles to rid herself of the last vestiges of the cramps that had befallen her. Mostly due to dehydration, she'd been denied any liquids for nearly sixteen hours, and the drug had probably exacerbated her condition. Her display caused another form of dehydration in Philby, who's mouth went as dry as a desert, and who's heart threatened to explode. Then the girl started purposefully towards the nearest corridor, leaving his field of view.

Philby took a moment to compose himself. Then he got his thoughts back where they needed to be. "Better inform Master Pittman of this, immediately!" Then he noticed an odd, rank odor...

"Ah! Just the fellow I wanted to see, myself!" Came a sepulchral voice practically in his ear. Philby jumped straight upwards and forward, doing a 180 degree turn in the process, degree of difficulty at least a six. When he saw what had come up behind him, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, as the voice continued, "Is the master of the keep receiving visitors? I wish to discuss why an old, dear friend, who I hoped would be free to make up our centennial bridge foursome, is still securely bound herein?"

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Ron stood at the curb outside his home, having successfully exited the premises with the utmost stealth. He stood before a large black van that would whisk him away to the airport, and then to battle. The other ninjas were already inside it, waiting with barely concealed impatience for the boy to order his thoughts.

Ron was mainly torn by the fact that he hadn't been able to leave Kim a message. She'd had to go on a mission solo because of Ron's family obligations, and now he couldn't even say goodbye. That is, if this was a one-way trip, which the ninjas seemed to imply was possible.

Ron slowly shook his head. He'd come back, no matter what he was destined to face. He'd come back to Kim, his family, Rufus, Bueno Nacho...well, the list was too long to finish right now! He turned to enter the van, just as a buzz emanated from one Ninja.

He promptly produced a cellphone and spoke quietly into it, then listened intently for a few minutes. As Ron watched curiously, he then huddled with the other two, whispering too low for Ron to catch a single word. Then he faced Ron, on his knees in the van's doorway. "Stoppable-San, regret to inform you that the whole deal is off, someone else has dealt with the great evil. You may return to bed." Then the door slid shut and the van shot into motion before Ron could even crank his jaw closed.

He gazed after the vanishing vehicle, momentarily stunned. "There's someone else? Man, that tanks!" He turned back towards the house, then stopped and patted his pockets. "Aw, man! I didn't bring my house keys! And Mom made me promise never to ninja my way into the house! I could try waking Rufus up to let me in, but last time, I broke my window with that rock...this just really isn't fair!"

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Burden had rubbed his hands together so much during the auction that had it been physically possible, he'd have erased his own fingerprints. And now he was down to the last two items, as Kim's left glove went to the highest bidder.

"Thank you, bidder, number 72! As before, the item will be shipped to the address provided...another postal box, of course! Anyway, as soon as the money is verified as deposited in my account. Oh, and by the way, said account will cease to exist as soon as all monies are deposited, so don't anyone get any ideas!" He clapped his hands, then used a pair of kitchen tongs to remove the glove form the camera's view. Transferring it to his hand, he swiveled his chair towards the table where he'd laid out Kim's gear. "And now we proceed to the _piece de resistance_, or two pieces, if you get my...where'd they go?"

Burden was so befuddled by the absence of the two items he expected to see that it took him a moment to realize that there was a great deal more missing. "What the f..." Then the glove was abruptly plucked from his hand.

"I'll take that, the outfit isn't complete without it." Came a cheerful voice that he never, ever expected to hear. Roughly ninety percent of the auction bidders disconnected as soon as they heard it. The remainder stayed connected in the hopes of seeing some serious violence. But all they saw of what happened next was a brief view of Burden's face coming straight at the lens, moments before the top of his computer table was swept completely clear, and the connection broke.

For those who had already transferred funds to Burden's account, it was either time to gnash teeth and break things, or engage the services of a hacker to reverse the transfer...

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Malcolm Pittman stood in his office, looking out the double-bay window that afforded him a magnificent view of the deep valley below. Right now, it was shrouded in gloom due to the hour, but he still felt somehow empowered by his high perch.

He turned as he heard the door open. Philby walked in, looking...a little older? Well, maybe his Grecian formula had given out, or something. He walked straight up to Pittman and bowed. "Someone to see you, Sir!" He announced. Then before Pittman could reply, Philby stepped around him, opened the window, climbed up on the sill, and launched himself out into the void in a perfect swan dive.

Pittman stood blinking in shock. _"I saw this in a movie once..." _He thought dazedly, leaning over the sill to watch the diminishing form of his manservant vanish into the gloom below.

Then _something _cleared it's throat behind him, causing him to snap rigidly upright, freeze momentarily, then turn slowly to see what it was. As soon as his eyes fell upon his visitor, he took an involuntary step backwards, only to leap forwards when the window slammed shut behind him.

"Now, now, none of that!" His visitor admonished him. "Can't have you leaving before we discuss the wisdom of reading instructions thoroughly _before_ beginning an undertaking..."

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Kim arrived at the office thirty minutes later, having been delayed both by taking her time 'securing' George Burden, and her making a careful, room-by-room search of the floors below. She entered the room with great caution, wrinkling her nose in reaction to a foul odor, or perhaps odors, that permeated the room.

There was no sign of any occupants, and after a quick look around, she passed on into the adjacent bedroom, only to return minutes later, a frustrated look on her face. Then she looked at the desk more closely.

A large, aged-looking gray book sat in the middle of the blotter, and perched on top of it was..."A Dunce cap?" Kim wondered aloud. There also appeared to be a tasseled bookmark in the book, with the tassels leading under the edge of the cap.

Curious, Kim couldn't resist what a little voice in her head, which sounded remarkably like Ron, was telling her was a bad idea. She reached out and lifted the dunce cap up to see what was underneath. Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. She dropped the cap, and sprinted for the nearest bathroom she'd found in her explorations, barely making it in time.

When she emerged some twenty minutes later, legs still a bit shaky, she faintly heard the sound of aircraft engines. Assuming Wade had tracked her down, and Global Justice was arriving, she hurried downstairs and headed for the front door to greet them. She was half right, but it had nothing to do with the newcomers.

She swung the door open just as the new arrivals reached it. There were four, two men and a woman dressed properly for the cold, and...Kim looked up, and up, at the tall figure in front of her, eyes widening.

Then the red figure leaned down and asked, "Hey, Kid! Any idea what the hell is going on here? We get a reading, _mucho_ evil, all ready to pop, then we get here, and _nada, zip! _Anything you can tell us?" Then the being squinted at her. "Don't I know you from some place?"

Kim clamped her mouth shut with an effort, and finally managed to stammer out, "B—basement, and up—upstairs!"

"Stuff at the top and bottom, eh? Figures, never all on the ground floor, to make things simple!" Hellboy turned to his companions. "I'll take the downstairs, don't feel much like climbing to the top of this place!" Then he strode off, as Kim tried to decide whether to mention the four hundred steps.

The woman stepped up to Kim. "You're Kim Possible, right?" Kim nodded jerkily in response. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, just...spankin..."

00000000

Global Justice actually did arrive nearly an hour later. Betty Director, who had been in Geneva on agency business, had been informed when Wade Load notified GJ that he had traced the online auction. She chose to accompany the rescue mission herself, along with her aide for the trip, Will Du.

Finding the BPRD craft already on the ground had concerned her, and she was greatly relieved to find Kim alive though somewhat subdued. Kim perked up somewhat when she saw Will bearing her discarded mission gear, which Wade had tracked rather easily. Even though the crisis was over, just putting her backpack and belt back on made her feel better, and she quickly used her Kimmunicator to call Wade and reassure him.

Betty Director, leaving Will with Kim, ascended to the late Malcolm Pittman's office. Wrinkling her nose at the lingering stench she exchanged polite greetings with the female BPRD agent. But her eyes were drawn to the display in the center of the desk. The BPRD agent courteously lifted the dunce cap to give her a look. Betty grimaced, then leaned closer, studying some kind of writing in Malcolm's somewhat shrunken forehead.

She looked curiously at the BPRD agent. "Well, unless my Latin has slipped...'Reading is Fundamental'?"

The agent shrugged. "Something like that. But something even more interesting on the page bookmarked with the guy's hair. These books are half empty, so additional notes and refinements to the rituals can be added later. And there's a fresh entry in this book, written, naturally, in blood." Shifting the cap and it's contents aside, she opened the book and turned it for Betty to read.

She snorted, then read aloud, "Under no circumstances should ANY teenage heroines be offered for sacrifice!" Then she frowned and looked at the agent. "But, what does it mean?"

The BPRD agent could only shrug.

00000000

Kim was drifting around the main hall, impatient for Doctor Director to return so they could leave this place. Will Du was right beside her, and rapidly making himself a candidate for Kim's second outlet for suppressed frustration of the night. And the first one was still being untangled from his computer equipment by two GJ agents.

"There is no reason to feel embarrassed, Miss Possible." Will was saying, "The atmosphere, the reportedly gruesome demise of the man who abducted you, can only be expected to unnerve one such as yourself. It takes the iron nerve of the hardened professional to withstand..."

At which point Hellboy burst through the doorway to the stairs down, right in front of them. "I don't suppose anybody could have bothered to mention all the freakin' steps?!" He bellowed.

Kim staggered, not so much from Hellboy as from suddenly having the full weight of Will Du in her arms. She looked at the Asian agent, startled, then a smirk crossed her face. Will pried his gaze away from the massive BPRD agent to meet her gaze, and blushed. "I think it would be best if we both simply forgot this incident ever occurred." He commented with only the slightest waver in his voice.

Kim's smirk grew. Then a small silver sphere, which had slipped out of her backpack, rose into view over her shoulder. There was a click, and a flash, that left Will blinking. "A little something Wade whipped up after watching a new TV show." Kim explained, "And we are so NOT forgetting this happened!"

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In Colorado, in a lair deep within Mount Middleton, Doctor Drakken, Kim's nemesis, listened to this exchange, and what came next, with a mournful expression. He'd managed to plant a bug on Kim that so far Wade Load hadn't detected. Now he was wishing he hadn't.

As the sound from the pick-up echoed through the lair, Shego came bursting into the room. "What the heck are you doing, Doctor D? Trying to scare everyone half to death?" She asked, glaring at the console from which the sound was coming from.

Drakken turned to regard her, head braced on one elbow, fingers tapping his cheek. "This...this is the ultimate humiliation, the final straw, Shego!" He looked again at the speaker, "The teenager has a better evil laugh then I do!"

Shego regarded him warily, then nodded slowly. "Riiiight. Well, I'll be going, now, Doc. Um, Happy Halloween to you."

Drakken nodded distractedly. "Happy Halloween to you too, Shego."

A HAPPY AND SAFE ALL HALLOW'S EVE TO YOU___Noncynic

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So, I managed a oneshot which didn't grow into six chapters, a rare event. A few extra scenes did somehow get tacked on, though.

Please Read and Review


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